The sky shook her head. “I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him before.”

“It’s fine,” Henry Harris said. “Tomorrow I’ll bring him in and see if we can get him to talk.”

The Vault’s eyes flickered with a hint of uncertainty. “Actually, I have a very bold guess.”

Henry Harris loved all kinds of divergent thinking. She smiled, “Go on.”

The Vault: “At the time, he stopped me and said, very agitatedly, that I wanted to kill him, so he would kill me. He attacked with real force, with genuine murderous intent. Considering that he was extremely high from drug use at the time, what he said was his true inner thought. The person who wanted to kill me was himself, not someone else’s instigation. But I don’t know him at all, and there shouldn’t be any life-or-death conflict of interest between us. The only thing that could be considered a connection is probably…”

The car drove under an overpass, a shadow sweeping over the hood, like a giant gray mouth swallowing them whole.

“Harry Forrest?”

The two words spoken by Henry Harris carried a special shock in the quiet car.

The Vault’s hoarse voice trembled in the air: “His actions at the time were basically an assault in public. Such behavior was stupid and pointless, completely inconsistent with the previous style of the mastermind. I think it was a decision he made on his own. Or maybe, back then, after the mastermind helped him frame Harry Forrest and escape legal punishment, just like with Sean Hall and the others, he was abandoned. For so many years, he’s been safe and sound, but my sudden appearance made him sense a crisis, and he no longer had anyone to turn to. Coupled with the effects of drugs on his brain and the influence of years of living as an addict, he impulsively followed me, wanting revenge…”

Henry Harris didn’t speak, but several wrinkles had already formed between her brows.

Could that “self-delivering” addict be the real culprit in the Harry Forrest case?

In their subconscious, that person should have been more mysterious, more intelligent, more cautious, able to evade the tight investigation of so many professionals—someone who fit their impression of the BOSS.

Yet, the one who appeared was just an addict resembling a street thug? And hiding in their sight in such a ridiculous way?

Yes, it seemed they had overlooked that people like Sean Hall, Meredith Stone, and the others weren’t particularly clever. The scriptwriter is far more terrifying than the real killer.

Henry Harris had previously had a vague suspicion like this, but she wasn’t as certain as The Vault. Once she started thinking along these lines, her mind became a storm, churning up all the information and intelligence she had, smashing it to pieces, and then recombining it in the air.

Henry Harris listened to her own heartbeat growing louder, her thoughts weaving between clarity and confusion. She wanted The Vault to continue, to analyze everything in order, but before she could speak, the phone hanging in front of them rang.

Henry Harris slowed down, looked for a place to park, put on her headset, and answered the call.

The caller was one of her officers.

After a brief exchange, Henry Harris hung up, her expression returning to calm.

“If it’s not urgent, come with me somewhere first.”

The Vault asked suspiciously, “What’s going on?”

Henry Harris said seriously, “Some of the victims’ families have come to the station. They want to see me.”

The Vault: “Who?”

Henry Harris replied, “The witnesses’ families.”

Thomas Daniels (Trident’s alias), Michael Wood (alias), Meredith Stone. All three witnesses have basically been confirmed to have given false testimony for Harry Forrest back then. Public opinion is bound to be affected, and the other two witnesses’ families probably can’t sit still anymore.

“Among the witnesses, their testimonies are actually the ones I care about most.”

Henry Harris changed direction, stepped on the gas, and drove down another road, her fingers tapping the steering wheel.

“I’ve interacted with them and conducted multiple investigations. I think they… really weren’t lying.”

Chapter 108: The Families

The car stopped in the open space in front of the police station. With a beautiful drift, it slid straight into a parking spot, and The Vault was almost made sick by Captain Harris’s impressive driving skills.

Henry Harris saw her pale face and asked in surprise, “You’re not used to fast driving?”

The Vault: “……” Is this a necessary skill?

Henry Harris told her firmly, “Yes.” Not being able to drive fast isn’t a big problem, but not being able to ride in a car is a huge one.

…Even so, The Vault could at most develop some skills in online racing games.

Henry Harris offered her a hand and smiled, “Come on out.”

The Vault stepped onto solid ground and immediately felt much better.

“Come, this way.”

Henry Harris led her, hurrying toward the reception room.

When the door opened, several people inside looked up.

This time, two families had come, more than ten people in total. The relatives on both sides must have discussed it and finally decided to come to the station together to get things clear.

Their loved ones had died unnatural deaths, and the murderer still hadn’t been publicly identified. Not only was the cause of death unclear, but they also had to bear the accusation of giving false testimony. As family members, they couldn’t accept it.

Besides, they also wanted to know whether Harry Forrest was really wronged. Had their respected elders committed an irreparable mistake?

“Captain Harris, you’re here!” The officer in charge of reception breathed a sigh of relief and quickly came over to introduce, “Captain Harris, these are Quentin Summers’s family members. This is Mr. Summers’s wife.”

The Vault’s gaze immediately drifted over.

Quentin Summers, the first witness to die in the Harry Forrest case. Male, sixty-three years old.

Mrs. Summers was now also in her sixties. At this age, a well-maintained elderly person shouldn’t look so old. But because of her husband’s sudden death, she had suffered a huge blow, and her once healthy body seemed to have lost all vitality, quickly becoming haggard. There was little life left in her drooping eyes.

The officer pointed to several people on the opposite seats. “Those are Marcus Carter’s family members. His two sons and two daughters-in-law.”

Marcus Carter, the third witness to die in the Harry Forrest case. Male, fifty-seven years old.

Henry Harris and The Vault discreetly observed the faces of the group. There wasn’t much hostility on their faces; they sat quietly and upright, all looking polite. When the two entered, a trace of excitement flashed across their faces, but they controlled themselves well. It showed that they really weren’t here to make trouble.

A peaceful conversation was good; otherwise, with such a big group, Henry Harris would have a headache.

As soon as Grandma Summers saw the captain of the criminal investigation team, she immediately stood up and hurried over to Henry Harris. Because she was anxious, she walked shakily, and her children quickly reached out to support her.

Tears glistened in the old lady’s eyes as she looked at her sincerely. “Comrade Xiao He, right? Comrade, my husband couldn’t possibly have given false testimony on purpose! I’ve thought it over so many times, I really think it’s a misunderstanding!”

Henry Harris comforted her, taking her hand and leading her to the table. “Don’t worry, please sit here first.”

Mrs. Summers sat down passively, still repeating, “There was no reason to harm him. That young man, we had no grudge against him, why would we want to hurt him, don’t you think?”

The people across nodded in agreement.

The Vault watched every detail of Mrs. Summers’s expression. With her years of life experience, she couldn’t find any trace of a lie. Instead, from her misty eyes, she could see that she was a sentimental person.

Quentin Summers’s family ran a camera shop, but it wasn’t a famous brand store. Quentin Summers liked collecting cameras, so he opened a repair shop and sold various second-hand cameras.

The Vault had read several files, but the case details weren’t very thorough. She only knew that Quentin Summers’s testimony ultimately established Harry Forrest’s motive for robbery and murder.

Henry Harris gently comforted her, asking Mrs. Summers to recount the process once more.

Even after so many years, Mrs. Summers still remembered every detail from back then, because on countless nights, they couldn’t help but ask themselves again: Did we make our statement clear? That one decision determined a young man’s whole life. The responsibility was too heavy.

Mrs. Summers swallowed hard and slowly said, “My old man was a talkative person. The older he got, the more he talked, chattering all day, always pulling people in the shop to chat. That young man was one of our regular customers. He never bought anything because he had no money, but he loved coming to our shop. Every holiday he’d come by. He’d look at cameras, talk about techniques and such. The old man would ask him things, they’d chat idly, and I’d even joke that they were like friends across generations.”